Edge of Regret
by OperationJonny
Summary: The Garo. A mysterious race with no past to remember, no future in sight. With nothing to live for, the Garo have settled into a life of desperation, destroying evil from the shadows. This life isn't for all Garo, as a lone Garo strives to defy the curse.
1. Prologue

I noticed that along with the Sheikah, and Dark Link and Sheik, there is another blaringly under appreciated group. XD And I have decided to write a fan fiction on them! I have perused the stories with Garo even barely mentioned, and there is a whopping total of four stories. Yes, four. What a huge sum. XD So I've decided to write a fan fiction on them. XD Go me, and let's hope people find this good, and review. Oh, and Happy new years!

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**Edge of Regret **

**By OperationJonny**

**Prologue**

In times long past, lost in the winds of time, there lays a tale, of long ago, that humans that live within Hyrule vaguely recall, that very few remember, and documents of this event have been lost to the ravaging eye of time. It tells of two people, shortly after when the Golden Ones had created the world Hyrule is settled on. These two, were both Sheikah, one of the seven races Farore had created to populate the land and sea that Din had crafted, and Naryu breathed life into. They were the strongest of their kind, the two of them. As each human holds different opinions, these two's opinions differed greatly, and with differences, came flaws, bringing their own destruction upon themselves, as they opposed each other, fighting at every chance possible. The great battle's details are lost to the winds, as is the name of the battlers, except for one of the sheikah, who's name was…

Garo.

He was the victor, but with the dying Sheikah's last breath, they cursed Garo, and all of his descendants, to ever be cursed, and live empty lives of eternal servitude to the very things he opposed, the foundation of good. So he and his children for eternity would be ever cursed to eradicate evil by darkness' hand. It has been that way ever since, each of the Garo born cursed with the same debt that their founder placed upon them. But one day, a sole Garo will repay the debt.

Golden light poured relentlessly through the window. A Garo sat up from his bed. Why he slept, was lost to him, his cold cobalt eyes staring out into the sun, the light burning into what felt like his very soul, as he started another meaningless day. He got out of bed, and stood up, and slowly walked over to the window, and lowered the shades over them, and sighed, as he basked within the shade of his room, closing his eyes. He wondered what these dreams meant to him. He saw two figures, battling, again and again, with the same endings, the same sentence ringing in his head: "The true way, Garo, is never to die without a cause…" Rang in his head, and he wondered, because that conflicted with the saying Garo lived by today, 'to die without a corpse, is the way of the Garo' and the other one was out of order. It didn't seem to make sense…

But soon, he pushed the thought to the back of his head. The Garo were a handsome and beautiful race, but hid it from the world with hoods of shadow and ragged robes of old. They were a cursed race, exiled from the Sheikah race for their founder's folly. They were to endlessly end evil from the shadows, and the last thing they needed, were the humans to intervene and make work harder. They did, after all, have to work until they broke the curse, however that's possible. He ran a hand across his forehead. There, as did every of the Garo, was a ruby red gemstone, set into their forehead. It was part of their curse. It was the bondage that held them to their duty. It could never be removed, unless the Garo died in the process. Everything had been tried for years to remove the curse, and all had failed. Most Garo had just given up, and let desperation and depression at the fact that they'd never escape this endless torrent of servitude.

But that wouldn't keep parents from raising their children with the false thoughts of freedom, and that they could escape this endless torture. It made them happy, seeing their children live their childhood thinking they were free, living an illusion they wished could be real. It was the only happiness Garo could afford, within this canyon settlement, hidden within these canyon walls. Celt himself was one of those children. His parents raised him with the constant thought that there was a freedom to the madness they had been born into, and it lay within each child of Garo. They just had look deep within. But that's just what the housewives had to say. Celt had grown out of that stage, and into the placid taciturn world of adult hood. Upon turning 16, you became an adult, and were forced to abide by the curse within. His hand strayed from the gemstone, to his silk-like black hair, and eventually, his hand covered his cobalt eyes, as he closed them, and contemplated the meaning of his existence, as he did every morning.

And, as every morning, he came to a conclusion. There was no meaning. No point, just servitude. Maybe, if he abode by the code of the Garo, he would die a warrior's death, maybe, he would be reincarnate, with a new life. Or, that's the only relief in the Garo culture there was… bliss in death. The only escape to freedom was to die honorably, with a good life behind you, and there would be a good afterlife to follow. Celt wrapped his dull brown robe around him, pulling his hood over his head, obscuring his face. From within his shadowed hood and so, there was just a shining pinpoint of light from his hood, a crimson glow of the cursed embodiment. Within his robe, were the trademark Garo weapons; twin silver blades. He stepped out of his small hut, into a roaring silent community of Garo going about there business within they're enclosed environment. Celt sighed, pulling his hood further down, as he approached his assignment post, where he would get an assigned an area to scout. Celt sighed. "Stones in the river of humanity, us Garo, cursed to forever serve until released from duty in death."

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**There we go! The first chapter of what I think will eventually be a good story! But what I really need, is people to read, and review, and tell me what they think! A few faithful reviewers would be nice as well. Well, Stay tuned in for another chapter later XD**


	2. The Prelude to Fate

Howdy! And I'm back for another chappy of spectacular Garo-ness! Well, First of all, I'd like to thank my reviewers, who surprised me with their compliments on my story, which personally I thought sucked. Maybe it's the fact that authors always underestimate their own stories… Either way, thanks for taking the time to review!

**Vladimir the Hamster: **As my first reviewer, I thank you a bunch! Also, thanks for the alert and the nifty review.

**Blondie91:** Yay! Thanks for the compliment, and as well, thanks for adding this to your favorites list as well!

**Chessvain: **Thank you for reviewing! The question is awfully confusing to explain XD It should be explained later on in the story… so just tune in for a while and you should understand.

**Biggoron: **XD I'm glad you liked it, judging from the fact the inspiration originated from you indirectly.

Not that many to reply to… but hey, at least I have reviewers XD Well, here's another chapter for you.

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**Chapter One**

Celt walked slowly towards the assignment post, the merciless sun pounding down on him. He was accustomed to it though, as were most of the Garo, who grew up in this painful heat. Celt looked to the right of him, where a group of Garo children were running around, having fun amongst themselves, and Celt allowed a smile to creep onto his shrouded face as the small children waved to him, with wide smiles on their face. Celt was popular with kids in town, and he often played with them when he had time, enjoying watching them living the lie he too had lived, enjoying being around their ignorant glee. He understood why the housewives told their children the lies they spoke. It was to keep them all happy. He waved to them as he passed, and they smiled, waved, and went back to playing. Celt turned his face forward, lowering it to avoid the sun's wrath as he walked towards the assignment post, and he entered the clay like building.

It was cool somehow inside, and Celt lowered his hood thankfully, taking in a breath of chilled air. "CELT!" He heard a female call out, and he turned to see a girl with long black hair not unlike his, and a pair of stone like jade eyes. His sister. The smile on her face was chiseled into her personality, never letting the curse of the Garo bring her down. She kept on trekking on relentlessly, with a manic determination. He wondered where that determination came from. "…Hello, Raeth." He said, looking towards his eccentric optimist of a sister. As long as he could remember, she was always looking on the bright side, adding her own zest of insanity to it.

Her robe was a solid black color, with gray runes running along the fringes. She was of higher rank than Celt in the Garo. She was usually placed in more dangerous and deadly situated places than Celt, mainly because she liked to show off her powers and make the best of her life while she could, as bad as it was, with the curse and all. Celt tried to act like her, to take a page out of her book. To look on the bright side occasionally. But he really couldn't. It was unlike him. After a while, he just shrugged, and made an excuse. 'This is what happens when you're a Garo. It settles into you, and it doesn't ever get out.' His sister's response to this was simple. 'It's you fault you let it settle in so willingly.' He was then brought back to reality by her voice.

"…. So, you have a good morning, or what? It's a nice day today. Not as hot as usual." She said with a smile, as she tried to make conversation. She always started conversations this way, and eventually pried her way into his thoughts, and feelings. She was odd like that, and he knew she could, and he fell for it each time she spoke to him. It was unavoidable with her. Then he was brought out of thought again, by her poking him gingerly on the forehead. "Little bro, as I have told you many times, thinking too much is unhealthy for you." She said with a grin, and Celt figured she knew what he was thinking. And already she had begun to work her way into his thoughts.

"Eh, you know I can't help it. It's the only escape from this pit of hell we live in." And at this, Raeth frowned. "Don't think like that. Mom never did." She said, a sad look entering her eyes, as she clenched her hand around a locket. Celt frowned, and pulled his hood over his head. He hated seeing her like this, and hated it worse when he made her feel like this. "…Sorry, I'll try to think…differently…I'm going to go get my post assignment, and I'll see you later…" He said, as he walked towards the booth where an aged sage like Garo sat, sifting through papers. His hood was pulled over his eyes, and his chin was covered in gray stubble and scars. His worn mouth curved into a smile. "Hello Celt, here for your assignment?" He asked, and Celt held back a sarcastic comment, remembering his last encounter with Blank, this enigmatic Garo.

He was having a horrible day, and sarcasm and pessimism coursed through his veins like sickly venom. He couldn't stand being in the Canyon Valley at this time, and he wanted an assignment, any assignment, to get out of here, and into the wild, where the sun shone less and the harsh truth of life could be hid from. He rushed into the assignment post, a scowl of hatred on his face, and approached Blank. "I want an assignment. To anywhere. I want out, NOW." He said, a bit too forcefully, for Blank stood up, a frown forming on his face. "Now, young'un, you'll a to collect yourself, and speak to me normally, or you won't be getting anywhere." He said, in a raspy voice. Celt grabbed him by the collar of his Garo cloak.

"Let me OUT. I don't care how I speak to you, you better let me out now, or I swear to the goddesses, I will end you." He said, and everyone around him, stopped, and stared. No one had ever spoken to Blank like that, never mind threatened him with death. Blank grinned. "You have balls, child." He said, as he grinned twistedly, thrusting his hand underneath Celt's ribs, and grabbed them, and began to twist, and Celt lost his grip as he clenched his teeth in pain, and Blank with his free hand, pulled back, and punched him dead in the face, sending him flying backwards, through the wall behind him. Celt felt blood rushing out of the back of his head where it had collided with, and broke the wall. His vision was blurred, and everything was moving. He attempted to get up, and Blank appeared in front of him, a wily grin on his face. "Interesting. You're alive. Not many live through a direct punch. Its also interesting that you managed to move your face last second, to avoid me breaking your nose. Your cheekbone is the only thing broken. Just keep it in mind to speak to me with respect next time." He said, as Celt's vision went, and he passed out.

"Earth to child." He said, and Celt returned to the present. "Oh, yeah. Sorry… could I have my daily assignment?" And Blank nodded, as he sifted through some more papers, and stamped one of the papers, and handed Celt a slip of paper. "…Thanks…" Celt said, walking away, and read off the sheet of paper, which had details of his assignment. He was to watch over a trade route, where caravans usually travel across, also a prime route for bandits to camp for unwary travelers. Celt began to leave, and as he left, he passed by his sister, who had sat herself down at one of the many tables within the assignment building. As he glimpsed at her, he sunk into memory, and his feet instinctively led him where he desired, as of their own control.

He barely remembered his mother, but his older sister did. She spoke of her as a great warrior, both merciless and compassionate, and was a fierce believer that the curse would be broken, and that she would be the one to break it, and free her family, and all of the Garo, so they may live the lives of normal beings. The story was vague, and faded in his memory, nothing but a fairy tale of his childhood told to him by his father, who watched over them more than their mother did. His mother was a hero, a pioneer of the Garo, the single shining light that gave the Garo even the slim hope of freedom. One day, on a day she had dedicated to the cause of the Garo, not the curse of the Garo, she was reported dead, killed by something dark. The only thing left of her was the last thing left of each Garo… a tiny ruby red gemstone. With a picture of her, and the gemstone, Raeth wore it around her neck, taking the burden of her mother's dream, and lived on for her mother, and tried to be the same light for the Garo that her mother had been.

Unfortunately, their mother was older, and wiser than they are now, and she was much more skilled in the ways of Garo lore, as well as magic and ways of battle. Raeth had been trying to live up to the shadow cast by her mother, which seemed to be an eclipse, but that didn't keep her from trying, although she got nowhere. Eventually, Celt realized he had been wandering the route he had been assigned, and that it was dark. Time had flew by him, his mind lost in the trenches of the details he tried desperately to keep vivid in his memory, his childhood the only thing keeping him vaguely alive on the inside. Eventually, he stopped thinking, and sat down in the chilling shade of the night, taking in the stars above, as well as the moon crossing the skies, casting a dim glow across the dark skies. As he began to slip into more thought, his escape from this pointless existence, he noticed the torchlight of a stationary caravan camping on the side of the route.

Celt's eyes glimmered from under his shadowed hood. Garo rule never said that he couldn't mingle with humans, just that it would cause problems. This had never occurred to him, to actually be around humans, humans with free wills, and lives with endless possibilities laid before them on the road of life they traveled. He became the shadow around him, and approached the caravan silently, lowering his hood, inspecting the caravan to see if there were any armed threats. Interestingly enough, it was just a family of traveling merchants, a weather worn father, a caring looking mother, and two energetic children, and a sixteen year old girl with long brown hair, and a blank look of apathy graving her clouded green eyes. Celt himself knew that look well, that look being the expression he lived daily. He would learn what it would be like to live freely… by spending the night with these strangers. And he appeared to the group, suddenly.

The father jumped. "HOLY SHIT!" He yelled, as he looked at the young man that stood before him and his family. The mother looked over, and hid the children behind her. The older girl just glimpsed at him, and shrugged. Celt nodded. "Hello… if you don't mind, would you allow me to spend the night with you? You have fire, and it's quite cold…" He said, a cloud of hot breath unfurling from his mouth, into the cold crisp air. The father looked at the boy up and down, as if appraising his smooth and practically flawless features, for some sort of hint of bad traits. "Eh, what the hell, why not." He said, motioning for him to join them near the large fire. The children ran up to him, and began tugging on his ragged robes. Celt smiled down at them, as he sat down; away form the others, watching them. He wanted to know what freedom was like.

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**Well, there you go, another chappy for you wonderful peoples. XD Now be even more wonderful and leave me a review, and stay tuned in for the next chapter or Edge of Regret!**


	3. The Wind of Fate is Blowing

I'm slightly disappointed. Only two reviews for the last chapter? Oh well XD As long as I have reviewers, I'm good. Sorta. XD I'd rather have more, but anyway, review response time!

**Blondie91: **Iffy? Does that mean I screwed up? Dammit. XD Well thanks again for reviewing! Keep on reviewing!

**Biggoron: **I dub thee, KING OF SHORT REVIEWS! I'm going to begin to count the words in reviews, just outta boredom and the fact I have too much spare time. So far, you are the King of Short reviews. Woot woot, Biggoron, feel mighty. For all will tremble in the might of your tiny reviewing XD

And now, I shall continue onwards with me writing. By the way, I don't do disclaimers anymore, because it's obvious that I don't own Legend of Zelda, or I would be making games, not fan fictions. Anyhoo, story time!

Celt sat down, watching everyone, who were trying to act that his presence didn't bother them, but he could tell they did. He seemed too outlandish to them, with his ebony eyes watching them intently, as silent as the night around them. Eventually the father broke the silence. "Sooo, whatcha doin up here all alone? There are bandits up here…" He said, curiously. Celt looked up, wrenched from his thoughts. "Traveling. I'm just a wandering vagrant." He said, and the man nodded. "That explains the tattered robe." He said, and Celt nodded. "So, why are YOU traveling a route with bandits on it, especially with a two woman, and two children?" He asked, and the man smiled.

The girl looked at him, her placid eyes flickering to life. "Just because I'm a girl, you think I can't fight?" and Celt smiled to himself. "It's just a generalization." He said, and she scowled to him. "Don't believe what people say. They lie." She said, and Celt found it amusing to speak to someone with the same pessimistic mentality as himself. He knew her weaknesses, how to make her twist mentally. "Someone's awfully pessimistic. All sunshine and rainbows with you, huh? You're born with the ability of freedom, so life is what you make of it, so why are you all depressed? Why not do something useful, constructive, something that makes you happy?" He asked her, and a fire sprung up in her green eyes. He had hit a chord with this girl.

"Because I can't. Because I'm constantly being moved against my will, because I have no freedom." She said. Celt's smile faded. "Such ignorance. Nothing can stop you from doing what you will. You take what you have for granted, what some don't have." And she lunged at him, reaching to a concealed knife, and thrust it at his throat, at high speeds. He caught her by the wrist, the tip of the blade just touching his neck. "You ingrate! We give you a warm fire to rest by, and you sit here, and call me ignorant!" She roared at him, the father shaking his head, and the children cowering behind the mother. Her arm shook as she tried to thrust the blade into his throat. Celt's smile had long since faded. "What, child, can't kill me?" He said, as she pulled away, and stood up. "I'm not a child! I'm not very much younger than you, and you're calling me a kid. You've got nerve." She said, as she stood up, and took a longer dagger from a sheath strapped to her leg, putting away the smaller knife.

Celt stood up. "Do you really want to fight me?" He said, remembering the creed to which the Garo were bound by, to destroy evil by shadows hand, not to kill random Hylians. She lunged at him, slicing the air with the ornate dagger. Celt dodged twice to the side, and ducked under a punch, and side stepped a stab to the stomach, and that's when he grabbed her wrist again, and twisted it, and she dropped the dagger. She attempted to punch him in the face, but he caught her fist in an open palm, and clenched his hand around hers. "I don't want to hurt innocents. It isn't my job." He said, and she looked at him quizzically. And he let her go. He looked to the father. "Sorry about that, I'll take my leave now…" He said, throwing his hood over his head, and beginning to leave. The girl looked at the dagger on the ground. "Wait, don't leave! Stay here!" She said, and he turned around.

"Why would you want me to stay after I yelled at you like that?" He asked. She frowned. "Just shut up, and sit down. I don't need to explain myself to you." She said with a lowered head as she picked up the dagger. Celt blinked, and listened to her, and sat down at the fire, and he pondered over why she could've wanted him to stay. Everyone seemed to settle down again, and Celt sat there, close to the fire, eyes closed. It was worse to stay, instead of leaving, because now he was being stared at by them, as if he was inhuman… despite the fact he was. Eventually he heard the sound of someone sit next to him. He opened his eyes, and looked to the side, and the girl was sitting there.

"Sorry I snapped at you. You're… right." She said, sighing. Celt blinked. "So why did you deny what I said?" He asked. She shrugged. "Because it seems like I'm not free, bound to the road that my parents travel on." She said, and then she paused, and poked the fire with a stick. "By the way, my name's Esther." She said, not looking at him. He nodded. "I'm Celt." He said, and there was a pause. Esther broke the silence. "What did you mean, I take for granted what others take for granted?" She asked, and he closed his eyes. She kept her head down, her long brown hair covering her face from his black eyes. "I mean, isn't everyone born with freedom?" She asked, and Celt sighed. "No." And she looked at him. "No?" Celt nodded. "Everyone's born with freedom… until it's taken away, forcefully, by a force greater than life itself." He said, and the rest of the family began to inch closer to the two, listening in.

"What's that supposed to mean?" The father asked. Celt looked to him. "It means, a person in death with knowledge strong enough and power great enough, can curse a single person in death, and leave that person who did them wrong be cursed to forever do something they don't wish to, to be cursed to do the opposite of the wrong doing which was done." And they all looked at him oddly. He blinked, realizing that he was thinking out loud. "Or so the stories go." He said, catching himself. "I travel a lot, and I stop at bars for news a lot, and I heard a particular story about a group of people that inhabit this region of Hyrule that are cursed and stripped of their freedom." He said, and they all listened in, interested at how well he told the story, as if he knew it first hand.

"Who are they?" The two children asked in unison, and Celt enjoyed being a story teller, the center of attention, telling them tales of the Garo, who lived a life so different, it seemed they lived in another world. "They're called… the Garo." He said, and the father chimed in. "Heyy, why haven't I ever seen any of them before? I've been practically all over this region." He said, and Celt smiled. "That means you guys are pure of heart, and are decent people. The Garo only appear to protect the world, by destroying evil by shadow's hand, or so the story says their creed is." He said, and they nodded, and grinned at his words.

"It's said they were stripped of their freedom when their founder did messed up, and the person who died by his mistaken choices cursed the race forever. Its rumored they wander within the canyon's walls, paying off the debt of the curse born into each and every one of them, causing desperation to sink deep into the minds of each and every one of them." He said, finishing off, leaving them all in thought. "Do you think they exist?" Esther asked Celt. He shrugged. "They may exist, they may be just a fairy tale to get you thinking and appreciate what you're born with." He said, and they all lowered their heads, realizing how fortunate they were for their own freedom. Suddenly, something in Celts head perked up, and sent a buzz through his body. It was the feeling he got whenever he sensed evil, but this one was different, it was stronger than usual, and it was almost… twisted.

Celt jumped up, a stern look overcoming his eyes. This was the curse kicking in. He had to fight off the evil, no matter how his body struggled. It was better if he went with it, the battles went smoother, as if he was being guided through his battles. "There's a bandit up the road, coming this way. Fast. Get out of here. Now." He said, and they all jumped up as well, shocked. "How would you know!" Esther asked feverishly, gathering up stuff, and packing them into the caravan. "The Garo are cursed to fight off the evil that could cloud Hyrule… so they can sense it coming." He said, and Esther looked at him strangely. "What's that got to do with anything, get in the caravan, and lets go!" She said to him assertively, and he shook his head.

"I have to fight them." He said, and she blinked. "Wait… are you…? Why would you show yourself to us then?" She asked, he turned his face so he could see her. "I wanted to see how it would be to be free." He said, with a grin, and a sudden burst of freezing wind blew by, and blew the campfire out, and Esther was left with his words ringing in her ears. "Don't forget the lesson I taught you all…" Celt's words said, carried on the cold wind as the caravan shot off, and Celt shot off in the other direction, towards where he felt the evil presence, as he shrouded himself in the darkness, as his silver blades slid out of his sleeves, as he approached where the evil was. His mind swam with what it would be like to be free, to actually wander the world and experience the endless possibilities the world could hold for them if the curse was lifted.

They had lit a new fire in his dark mind. He would fight off every evil in the world to increase his power, and he would break the curse of the Garo… they would be free like everyone else. He would follow in the footsteps of his mother, and his sister, and free everyone for the sake of what his mother died for, and his father left to accomplish. Eventually, he stopped, when he felt the evil practically next to him. "You, prepare yourself!" He said, as he muttered an incantation, and a ring of fire surrounded the two fighters, cutting through the darkness, as he lunged at his opponent, and they entwined in combat.

**Heh, cliffeh. Well, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and if you did, leave me a review! You know you guys want to! Maybe if someone leaves a review, you might clinch the title of King (Or Queen) of Long (Or Short) reviews! Hahahahaha, well, tune later for more Edge Of Regret, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. **


	4. Specter of Silver

**Well, thanks to a certain person, I have been alerted to an annoying new policy on answering reviews in the author notes. Oh well, I'll just begin to use the reply review thing XD well, here's another chapter for you guys, who seem to have fallen in love with my story. Well, it's a good thing. I'm happy I've acquired some badass reviewers. Anyhoo! You all know that I don't own Zelda, so story time! Enjoy!

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Celt lunged at the figure, in the bleak light of the circle of fire. Flickering in the blackness, Celt spotted the being he sensed… the being of twisted origin. It was cloaked in long white robes, tattered bandages trailing off, face wrapped as well, only a single mercury colored eye bared in the darkness, reflecting the fire, and projecting emptiness. This figure unsheathed from within it's billowing cloak two parrying knives, wide and awkward looking for attacking.

"DIE!" Celt roared, a new fury welling up inside him he had never felt before. Fury at his ancestor, fury at the spiteful dead who laughs at the Garo's misfortune. He lashed out, letting out a fierce diagonal uppercut aimed at the face, and the figure agilely hopped backwards, and Celt whipped his second blade on his left hand across the twisted being's throat, which the figure simply knocked away with it's knife, and Celt spun in the air, and landed. "Round two." He stated, dashing at the figure again, thrusting the silver blade at the being, who jumped over the blade, and in mid-air, with great agility, came down with a kick aimed directly at Celt.

He lifted his left blade up just quickly enough to slow it down, and got his other blade up under the other to stop the impact, and threw the person off his blades. Celt looked at the figure, which stared at him, with a blank intensity he had never seen before. It was… unnerving, this one silver fluid looking eye, staring at him, unblinking, unwavering… This wouldn't stop him, as he dashed in again. He dashed in, blades gleaming with the firelight, the figure's single eye drilling into his, their head tilting ever so gently to the side, appraising him. There was only one thing he did remember about his mother… it was a technique she taught him as a young child, which he had practiced every day when she disappeared, to perfect it.

Yet, he had never tried it on a living being… and he decided this twisted soul would be the first to experience its ravages. There was something about this … thing, that felt inhuman, with no remorse, something even the worst of evils had. Regrets, remorse… emptiness, anger, hatred. This being had no feelings that could be felt. No remorse, no hatred… just emptiness, and its eyes read 'kill me' but the body did otherwise. This was no ordinary evil… and felt stronger than others, and he decided it necessary to kill it quickly. As he dashed at the twisted being, he let his two blades dragged behind him along the dusty ground, and he muttered to himself. "Cataclysm… part… one."

As he said this, a rush a fire coursed through his veins, through his limbs, entering his cobalt eyes, and he jumped at it, unleashing blindingly fast sword strikes, which the figure, managed to parry and dodge most of, none landing their marks. When he hit the ground from the mid-air slashes, he landed in an odd stance, blades covering his face, except his eyes, crouched. "Cataclysm, part… two." And he unleashed more strikes, uppercuts, diagonal slashes, horizontal, and even a few spinning slashes, the blades heating up as they cut through the air, leaving trails of distorting heat. The figure didn't even bother parrying, just continued to dodge, the fringes of their clothes set ablaze, which went out. Then, they found an opening, and thrust an open palm at Celt, catching him in mid attack, and he felt intense force push down on his lungs, and breathless, he back flipped back, his hood knocked down. The figure's eye shot open, and then it clutched it's bandage wrapped head, in severe pain, and it flailed around, and then looked up, it's eye now black as the night.

"Celt… what are you doing out here? Go, before…" A familiar female voice said, and then, she fell to the ground, flailing around. Celt's eyes shot open. Why did that voice sound so familiar? The voice… He could've sworn he'd heard it… in his past. But whom did it belong too? He thought, and shook his head, as he stepped towards the woman. He raised his blade above her, blade tip pointed down at her. "Twisted being… may you find peace in rest…" He said, and his eyes flared. "CATACLYSM, PART THREE." He exclaimed, his complete right arm bursting into flames, twisting and intertwining with the blade. "Die." He said, as he brought down the blade. He had to end it now, the Cataclysm had taken its toll on him, and he was feeling consciousness slipping away. Suddenly, the woman looked up, the silver eye returned, but then it turned back to black.

"No, I will not die. Not yet, young Celt, and not by your hand." She said, and the blade was wrenched from his hand, and now she was enveloped in a dark flame, as she drove the blade into his chest cavity, and as he stumbled back, eyes wide, she roared as she drove a palm into the handle of the blade, driving it straight through, the blade tip stabbing through the outside of his back as well. She stepped back through the fire, her own fire parting it. Her black eyes unwavering bore into him, as he struggled to keep consciousness, stumbling, numbing cold spreading through him, as he felt warmth pour down the front of his chest. "Don't die just yet. You'll need to kill me one day." She said, as she stepped into the darkness. Celt panted heavily. Thousands of thoughts rushed through his head, things he had to accomplish, things he always wanted to do… that will never be fulfilled now, now that he was to die.

Then, words rang through his head. "The true way, Garo, is to never die without a cause." Celt's hand reached the hilt. "I… wont… DIE!" He roared, as he ripped the blade from his chest, causing more blood to pour from the deep stab wound in his chest. He fell to his knees. "I won't die… not just yet… I need a cause… I need to fulfill the cause. I need to… live." He said to himself, as he felt consciousness slip away, and the darkness encompassed his mind, as he felt his face hit the dirt, lying in a puddle of his own blood. "Can't… die…" He muttered just before he passed out. He hadn't even self-destructed. He refused to. He wouldn't give up. He would see the light of day once more. If only he knew how to escape the darkness…

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**Ta-da! Cliffy! I lurve deh cliffays XD it must drive you guys insane though. Well, leave me a review, because you guys are all wonderful people, and like to leave reviews! Right? Riiight. XD Well, tune in later for another chapter, and I hope you didn't mind the shortness. Well, peace out gangstas. XD**


	5. The Fire of Living Relit

**Well, I'm back again, and with more writing to be read! Woot woot, go me! Yeah, you all know the deal on the disclaimer and such, so I'm not going to waste my time with it. Hope you all enjoy this chapter of Garo-y goodness!

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Cold, cold numbing darkness. Celt wasn't even sure if he was living. He felt as if he was drifting away, the darkness overbearing him, but each time, he would pull from it, in a frenzied fit to live, and pushed the dark away. He heard a soft and harsh voice in his head. "You struggle so hard to live… when you're race has no purpose to live. There wouldn't be too much of a difference without you, of all people if you died." The voice said, and Celt could almost hear the Reaper grin from a pocket of the darkness that flooded his mind. "Shut the hell up." Celt retorted furiously, between strangled breaths. "It's true. What a single Garo going to do? You, of all people, break the curse? You'll just die. Like you are dying right now." He said, and Celt growled.

"Who the hell are you, telling me that I have no significance!" He yelled out, for once having a belief he could defend: the fact he held purpose. "I am the Grim Reaper, the one who takes the souls of the dead. You, my friend, are just holding on barely. The more you resist the more it'll hurt you, no one else. Just die." He said, and Celt was outraged. "NO! I WILL NOT GIVE UP SO EASILY! I WILL LIVE, I WILL BREAK THE CURSE, AND I WILL NOT DIE!" He roared, and the darkness began to recede, and he heard a laughing voice. "Good, that's what I was hoping. You passed with flying colors. You'll live for now. I'll see you when your time does come." The voice said, going from harsh to gentle and soothing. Celt regained feeling of his legs, and realized that he was standing, his fists clenched, and the last thing he saw from the darkness that had left him was a pair of twinkling green eyes. "Don't disappoint us now, Celt." The Reaper said, as he regained feeling in his entire body.

He fell to his knees in incredible pain, as the pain of the wound came rushing back to him, and he gasped in unbearable pain. "You ok?" He heard from the left of him, and he looked over, and saw a female, draped in sheikah garb. Her face was taped from the chin up to the bottom of her mouth, and chin length black hair framing deep crimson eyes. "GET AWAY FROM ME!" He roared, at his mortal enemy. The sheikah don't remember what they did to the Garo, but the Garos still do. They remember how they cursed not just their descendant, but the entire race of Garo, each and every descendant. The only thing that the Garo don't know is if they deserve it. Either way, they hated the Sheikah for what their mercilessness.

He swung one of his blades at her in a feeble attempt to kill her, before she did him. She back flipped away from the blade. "What the hell man!" She exclaimed, as he clutched his chest, panting deeply, limped over in pain. His cobalt eyes where steeped in a primal instinct to live, and were filled with hatred towards the person of the race that had condemned the Garo. The look of pure fear for one's own life struck pity into the heart of the Sheikah. "I'm not going to hurt you…" She said, as she approached him, as he lashed out again, like a wounded dog pinned in a corner. "Get the hell away!" He exclaimed. His fine hair, crusted with blood fell into his eyes. "STAY BACK!" He roared as she approached a third time, and he went into a frenzy, letting go of his chest, and letting his secondary blade slide out of his sleeve.

"You damnable sheikah! You condemned us all to an eternity of servitude, everything that we have to live through is all your fault!" He roared, as he swung at her, and she dodged. She looked at him inquisitively. "What are you talking about?" She asked, as she dodged another blow, and blinked at him, her bangs covering her eyes. "I don't know what you mean, but you seem delusional…" She said, unsheathing her blades, as a twisted smile formed under her mask. "I'll just have to put you out of it then." She said, and charged at him.

Celt's brain felt fried. He didn't know what was going on, he just felt something new overwhelm his body, moving his limbs, something that he thought felt familiar, but long since forgotten, a new energy surging through his body. He roared at the Sheikah, as he let his blades drag behind him. She was running at him too, and she wondered who would be the first to strike. She decided she would be the first to strike, and to end it with a swift slash with her two swords. "Prepare to die!" She exclaimed, a second before she swung the blades.

Just as she swung, Celt rolled directly under it, and as he was rolling, kicked her dead in the stomach, with both his feet, and it lifted her off her feet, and she was sent flying backwards rolling, and she sprung up after gaining her bearings, her vision blurry, and she saw a blur of blades fly by her face, and she parried his blows. He launched a horizontal slash at her which she swung her blade at and swat the blade from her, and he thrust his second sword at him, which she sidestepped, and then did a spin slash at him, which he stopped with his blade tilted vertically where the blade should have cut into his side. They sat there, clashed for a few seconds, and then they had a close range battle with their second blades.

He would launch a diagonal slash, and she would meet it with one of her own, throwing each others arms back, for another strike, causing what was about a half minute of back and forth attacking, slashing at one another, crashing blades into one another, causing booms to emanate from the enormous force they were putting into the blows, as the weather began to change above them, the morning cloudiness becoming dark clouds, as rain began to fall from the skies and thunder began booming from the heavens. Eventually, they took their swords from their sides, and began using them to attack, and they clashed back and forth, blade hitting upon blade, clashing and sliding off one others blades, as their intricate steps and slashes became one, and they clashed for a few seconds, gazing into each other's eyes, strain written all over their faces.

She was pissed. How could she be on par with a guy with a huge freaking gaping hole in his chest? This was absurd, she shouldn't be losing this battle, but yet here she was fighting down this boy about her age, wounded, being matched for every skill. What was it about him? His eyes were filled with a desperate urge to live, and a burning hatred towards her she didn't understand. Then he threw her back, for he had mustered up strength enough to push her back. She was sent off balance, and she rolled and landed on a knee to avoid falling over. She held her blades at ready, poised to strike at him, as he did, holding his blades at ready to strike her down. They rushed at each other, duel blades lethal and sharpened to kill, ready to administer the final blow to each other.

Running towards each other, Celt lashed out quickly, but the Sheikah anticipated this, and redirected the blow away from her with her blade, and had a full open shot at him to kill him, but he realized this himself and managed to turn enough in the split second to lay one eye on his soon to be killer. "This is it, I guess…" He said, as she brought down her sword on him, but as the blade was to cut into his neck, she took a sudden pity on him, as intense sadness entered his vivid eyes, and she manipulated her blade, and drove the hilt into his neck, and knocked him out. As he fell, he had mixed emotions. Why… did she not kill me? After all that was said? I should've died… Maybe I really do have a reason in life I need to complete… and won't die until it's accomplished… He thought, before the darkness encompassed his mind, and he hit the cold ground, rain falling on his face, as lonely thunder sounded above the two, the fallen Garo, and the victorious Sheikah. She sighed, and carried him away, to mend his wounds. Why, she wondered, why she was helping him. It was even beyond her. It just felt like she should've.

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**Another somewhat short, but as equally good chapter for all of you guys. Bah, it bugs me that all my chapters are kind short. I'm sure you all enjoy them regardless. I hope at least as much XD Well, hope you enjoyed it, and tune in later for another woefully short chapter of Edge of Regret! I'm sure there will be an amazingly long chapter one day though. XP**


	6. Debt of a Lifetime

**Well, here we go again! I couldn't review reply last time, but I'm guessing I'll be able to this round of replies. Yeah. Hmm… not much to say here. XD eventually, the author notes are just going to disappear… anyway, story time! Hope you guys enjoy it!

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Celt felt his head resting against a soft pillow. He also heard voices, and drifted between sleep and consciousness. "You mean to say you just randomly found him in the middle of Ikana? Half dead, and then you got into a fight with him, and decided to take him into our settlement? What's wrong with you, Terea?" A male voice asked, and another voice answered, after a slight pause. "… Even if you are my superior, and my brother, I don't have to explain myself to you, just hold responsibility for him. It'll be fun. Like a pet almost." She said to the man, with an edge of humor in her voice. He sighed. "Whatever, just don't get in trouble or it'll be my nuts the elder will have, no one else's." He said, and there were the sounds of footsteps, and then the sound of a door closing shut.

Celt sat up, his vision blurred. "Why did you spare me?" He asked right off. Terea chuckled. "You don't waste any time, huh?" She asked, and sat down. "I dunno. I just didn't feel like killing you…" She said, and Celt struggled to get out of bed, and stood up, and bowed to her. "Thank you… I owe you my life." He managed to choke out, his wound still plaguing him. He then lost his balance, and nearly fell, and Terea caught him, and scowled. "You idiot, you haven't healed yet, get back in bed!" She said, and he stood there, blinking. This was the first time in a long while anyone had actually showed concern for him. His family never did, maybe his mother, but he couldn't remember from that far back.

Not even his sister showed that she cared. He knew she did… but she never showed it. He remembered the days as a child, when he would go out into the rain, the infrequent torrential downpours that struck Ikana randomly throughout time. He would play out in the rain, by himself, and imagine he was in another world, a more wonderful world. He would then walk inside, and his sister would be sitting there, staring at him calmly with a distant look in her eyes, but never got him something to dry off with, and never reprimanded him for being out in the rain, just watched him, and arranged assignments for herself to keep the home running. She became something close to a mother to Celt, taking care of the home, but never uttering a word of love to him. All this flooded to him, as he stood there, eyes distant.

"Sit." She said, applying pressure to his shoulder, making him sit down. "I don't want you dying on me." She said, and he sat down. He realized he wasn't wearing his cloak, or shirt under it, and had heavy bandages wrapped across his chest, covering the top of his torso. "Thank you." He said, and bowed his head. She blinked. "Erm, you don't need to thank me…" She said, a sheepish grin spreading across her face as she ran a hand through her long bangs, moving it out of the way. Her mouth wasn't taped over anymore, and she had a serene grace about her face, quietly beautiful. He was staring at her, and she noticed this after a while, and began to blush. "What?" And he shrugged. "Nothing…" He said, as he threw on a tunic, and his cloak, and grabbed his blades. She looked at him strangely.

"Do you not get when I said rest?" She asked, and he merely shrugged. "I'm really not of any use resting." He said, his eyes taciturn, showing no pain, or life, compared to when he battled her. Then, his eyes were roaring with the will to live, and a burning hatred burned deep within them too… she wondered where it all went. "You're of no use injured either." She said, and he blinked. "I'm perfectly able right now, I can barely feel my wound." He said, and she sighed. "Whatever. If you die, it's not my fault." She said, and he nodded.

Celt was curious to what the Sheikah had always done with their lives, living freely, without the curse of bondage upon them. What had they done with their lives in these years of ignorance of what they did to us? He thought, and Terea inched towards the door, creeped out by his contemplativeness, and the fact he kept staring at her when he did think. "Yeah… I'm going to go to a Sheikah meeting now…" She said, and he nodded. "Alright, I'll come with." He said, and she shook her head. "No, you can't." She said. "Why not?" He asked bluntly. She rolled her eyes. "Ok, I'm going to a Sheikah meeting." She said, and he nodded slowly. "I, Sheikah. You, Garo." She said.

There was a slight pause. "I'm not following… what are you getting at?" And she nearly fell down from exasperation. "IT MEANS YOU AREN'T ALLOWED TO COME!" She said, and he shrugged. "I don't care, and if anyone says otherwise, I'll just kill them." He said, and she twitched. Mainly because she believed him. "Fine then, I'll lead the way." She said, pulling up her mouth wrap as she left the sheikah settlement, and began to walk from the barren lands into more snowy lands. She looked behind herself. Now was a perfect opportunity for her to lose him. She began to run at break neck speeds, weaving in and out of Celt's visibility. He stood there, blinking. "Where could she be going?" He asked himself, and he pulled up his collar around the lower half of his face, and made a hand seal. "Shadow step." He said to himself, and everything around him darkened, and everything became a blur to his eyes.

Terea stopped running, out of breath. She was a good ways away from Celt. It was a mean thing to do, leaving him out in the middle of the snowy tundra, but she had to for the time being. If he could endure that wound for as long as he did, she was sure the frost wouldn't get to him. She began walking towards the meetinghouse, wearing white Sheikah garb, to blend in with the snowy surroundings. She felt a hand tapping her shoulder. She whirled around. It was Celt, draped in his tattered brown cloak, the collar pulled up past his mouth, his cobalt blue eyes placid as usual.

"Why did you try and ditch me?" He asked, and she twitched. "Because you're not supposed to come with me to the meeting! It's for Sheikah only! What if you leak some of the info heard within to others? I'm pretty screwed in that case." She said, and he blinked. "I wasn't going to tell anyone." He said, and she blinked. "Why didn't you just tell me, idiot?" She said, and he shrugged. "You never asked." He said, and she held back the urge to punch him. "Well, just follow me, and shut up." She said, walking ahead of him. He nodded, following silently, interested at this white powder. He had never seen it before. As he walked, he thought back to his childhood, and he remembered his mother, for the first time.

"Hey, Celt, come with me, I want to show you something!" A tall woman with flowing black hair said, dark eyes glowing with warmth. Celt was young, maybe six years old. "Ok mummy…" He said silently, and she wrapped a warm cloak around him, throwing on her own black cloak. She picked him up, and carried him outside. It was extremely cold, and there was a cold wind picking up, and he snuggled close to his mother, who smiled at him. After a while of walking through a canyon tunnel, they were lead to a spring, water pouring from the canyon wall, from the mountains nearby. The cold wind was catching the water spraying from the spring, the water freezing as it was carried around the spring by the wind.

The effect on Celt was amazing. These small pure white flakes that fell from the sky in the secluded spring hidden in this canyon amazed him. The grass that grew around the spring of sparkling water was covered with a fine layer of frost, and Celt played with his mother near that spring, eventually sitting down besides it. "Celt, if you ever want to be with me, just come to this spring. I'm always here…" She said, and he looked to his mother. "Always?" He asked, and she smiled warmly. "Always." And Celt was ripped from his newfound memory, as he brain felt like it was being set on fire as he fell face first into the snow, clenching his forehead. He felt a searing sensation spread across his forehead, but after a while, it went away. Terea looked concerned. "You ok?" She asked, and he stood up. "Yeah… I'm ok… I think…" He said, and she noticed black markings spreading from the gem on his forehead branching across his forehead gently.

"Where those markings on your forehead there before?" She asked, and he ran a hand across his forehead. "There were none before… there are now?" He asked, and she nodded. He put the thought aside. "Doesn't matter… let's just go to the meeting place." He said, and she nodded, noting the stern look embodying his eyes, as she led the way to the meeting place. Celt looked to the sky, as he walked. Did the memory have any connection with the pain in his head? He also wondered where his sister was… was she searching for him? … Or would she forget about him like she did mom and dad, never going out to look for them? Maybe he would do that while he was out here… look for his parents… and then they'd all go back to Ikana, and get Raeth, and break the curse… as a family.

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**Wahahahah! Asemi longchapter! (longer thanmy others by a little around 200 words XD)Although I got stumped in the middle of it, It's a tad pointless at certain parts… but hell, I don't think anyone will care XD Well, I hope you enjoyed it, leave me a review, and stay tuned for the next chapter! See you all then! **


	7. A Friend Made

**I'm back from a weeklong hiatus! I was groundededed XD Yeah, but now, I'm back and shall be writing in full force again! Enjoy guys!

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They approached the meeting room doors, built into the side of a mountain, carved from the very stone of the mountainside. Terea pushed on them, and walked in. As they walked in, all the white-garbed sheikah turned to look at them, vaguely pointed objects in their hands, but when they realized it was another Sheikah and what looked like a beggar walking in.

"What's this weeks pet Terea? A beggar? We can't even see his face, that collars in the way…" One of the eerily white-clad sheikah said. Terea lowered her mouth wrap. "Celt…" She said, without turning around. "Yes?" He responded with simply. "The sheikah of Termina believe in not keeping anything from each other, it's one of our customs. As long as you're within the land of the Sheikah, you do not conceal your face in company of other Sheikah. They find it disrespectful, so lower your collar." She said, and he nodded, pulling it down, and running a hand through his black hair, clearing it of snowflakes, and slicking it back with the wetness from the water from the snow, exposing the jewel and markings on his forehead.

"Hey, he's kinda cute." A female Sheikah said, but another man, an elderly looking Sheikah, looking panicked. "AN ACCURSED! A CURSED SOUL! CAN'T YOU FEEL HIS EVIL?" And Celt tilted his head in curiosity, his face blank. "Where would you get that idea, sir?" He asked, approaching him, and the elder began to shrink back from him, a look of fear entering his eyes. Celt smiled. "I'm not evil. I prefer misunderstood." He said with a twisted grin, as the man fainted, and some Sheikah looked at him with a new respect, some with scorn.

Terea held back laughter. "Get over here, here's some seats." She said, motioning for him to follow to the opposite side of the chamber. The meeting room was built into the side of the mountain, but the inside of it was wooden, and had torches dimly lighting the hall, with a podium for a speaker, and a table beside, where a bunch of elders and war-hardy looking men and women sat. Behind the pedestal was an ornate fireplace, carved exquisitely, a fire roaring within. There were rows of chairs, many occupied, but one man stood off to the side, of thirty or more years, with a well groomed beard, dark blue eyes, a stern expression, and neat black hair. Like the other Sheikah, he wore no mouth wrap, but he didn't wear hood like the others did.

As Celt walked towards the seat, he noticed the man looking at him. He stared right back at him, directly into his eyes, until a tall man with long blonde hair and gray eyes walked up to the podium. "Ah, well it seems like everyone's here…" He said, scanning the crowd of seated Sheikah with his pupil-less eyes, and they fell on Celt, the only one wearing brown. "And… what seems like someone extra." He said, and he cleared his throat. "Who's the one who has taken full responsibility for taking an outsider into one of our meetings?" He said in a cold voice. Terea glimpsed at him nervously. She stood up.

"Ehem… that would be, Sir." She said, and he sighed. "I should've known it was you Terea." And he looked back to her brother with a evil glare. He twitched. Then he looked to the man that was standing to the side. "Raidell, please escort our guest outside." He said to the man who was standing to the side. "Will do." He said bluntly, walking toward Celt, can grabbing him by the back of his neck, and dragging him outside.

Once outside, he chucked him into the snow, and stood in front of the doors. "Child, what brings you, a Garo, here, into Sheikah lands?" He said, and Celt rubbed his neck, a flicker of anger kicking into them. "Why would you care?" He growled. Raidell rolled his eyes. "Do you want to die?" He said. "How bout you? Because you're getting more and more on my nerves." He said, and Raidell grinned. "Oh really now?" He said, and Celt rolled his eyes, not very much unlike the way Raidell did. "Just move." He said, and He smiled and shook his head. "Gotta move me, boy." He said, and Celt frowned. "If it has to come to that…" He said, pulling up his collar, blades sliding into place in his sleeve, and he charged at the man.

The large man merely stepped out of the way, and Celt had to stop himself from slamming into the door. "Here, let me help you inside." Raidell said, swiftly getting behind him, uncharacteristic of a man of his bulk, and drove his boot into Celts back, pushing him through the doors, and went flying into the main hall. Raidell walked in with a smile. "Sorry about that Sere. C'mon now, out you go." He said to the man with blonde hair, and then grabbed Celt by the boot and dragged him out like a dog, tossing him back into the snow.

"There ya go. Happy now? You got inside. Now stay out." He said, and Celt sat down in the snow sulking. Raidell's smile faded. "What's wrong boy?" He asked Celt, who was acting like a child, sitting in the snow, pouting and sulking, mumbling curses to himself. "Don't like being left out." He said, and Raidell laughed a deep rumble of a laugh that reminded Celt strangely of his home. "Ah, them, they're just sitting there rambling on about how paranoid they are, how they can keep their location secret, their missions confidential, stupid stuff, nothing worth listening." And Celt strangely felt better. "Don't they have a side room or something…? My ass is getting cold…" Celt mumbled, and Raidell laughed again, patting him on the head. "Aye, I'm getting cold myself. Why not we stop by my home for some warmth? They won't notice us gone. They usually prattle on and on for hours on end." He said, and picked up Celt by the shoulders, and stood him up.

"There we go." He said, brushing snow off of his ragged cloak. "Sorry about roughing you up earlier, I wanted to see how strong you were. You're nothing too special, but you seem pretty decent of a fighter. Nowhere to par with me though, I can fight on par with Blondie in there, and he's the General of Defense, the one who keeps invaders out and trains our men." He stated proudly. Celt shot him a cold look. "Who the hell cares?" and Raidell's smile practically fell right off his face. Celt cracked up. "I'm just kidding with you, old man!" He said, playfully punching him on the arm. Raidell grinned. "I bet." He said, sending him flying with a hard punch to the chest, that sent him into the snow.

The punch didn't hurt him at all but it just sent him flying. Raidell seemed like a gentle giant, who knew when to hold back and when to be serious, and Celt seemed to be at ease around him. Was the free world around him filled with people like him? Like Esther and her family? Like Terea? Celt hoped so, and if it was… the curse was well worth breaking. He thought, as he lay in the snow. Raidell walked over. "What, I hit you too hard? Can't get up? Up you go!" He said, lifting him up off the ground yet again. "If ya can't walk, I'll carry ya. You're a small thing, like this person I knew once." He said, seemingly reminiscing. "C'mon, lets get going, I'm freezing." Celt said, and Raidell snapped back to reality. "Oh yeah, alrighty then, to my place!" He said, leading the way.

Celt was amazed at the people he had met so far. If this is what he could sample even while cursed, the world free from curse must be miraculous. Celt concluded, as a new hope entered his soul, lifting his spirits, lightening his outlook. He wondered what next would come to be in little adventure of his…

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**There you go! Update from the Jonny-Muffin! Hope you enjoyed it, and if you did, then leave me a review, please and thank you! Stay tuned for another chapter later in time, and hope you enjoyed it! **


	8. Unknown Cataclysm

**Sorry for the delay on writing! It's because of my damnable computer. Damn you computer, damn you to the deepest bowels of hell! See, I got this nifty upgrade on my hard drive... but Microsoft Word has been wiped from the hard drive! So the chapter I've already written is unaccesable, because it's Word, and this is WordPad, which apparanlty has a short out and freezes when I try and load Word files, and has no spell check, so now I have to re-read. -sigh- Oh well. XD As long as you guys enjoy it, I'm fine. Well, here's another chapter of Edge of Regret! Hope you guys enjoy it! **

**Upload Edit: This was completely written without spell check. XD So try not to ride me too hard about any mispellings or misuse of punctuation, etc. Please and thank you! **

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Celt and Raidell walked through snowy fields, towards a small settlement. "Raidell... how do you know about the Garo exactly?" He asked, and Raidell shrugged. "I've got direct access to the Sheikah's Library. It's filled with all kinds of ancient info and stuff. I read up about the incident with the Garo and Sheikah, and just lightly brushed up on it. Apparantly, the Garo is intended to be one of the Sheik's best hidden secrets. You'd have to kill Sere before you'd get in there." Raidell said, and Celt wondered if info sufficient enough would be in there to learn how to break the curse.

Celt noted how odd the Sheikah were. He thought they were to be some ungodly powerful group, with a tightly secured settlement with legend like warriors. If their predecessor could curse an entire race, he assumed the rest of them were equally as powerful... but they seemed quite quaint and simple... but maybe that was exactly the ploy they intended to set up. Then he was snapped back to reality by Raidell's voice.

"Ah, we're almost there child..." Raidell said, as he noted a Sheik approaching them. He wore a fine black cloak similar to Celts, and white hair framed jade eyes and wore a pair of sage-like glasses. Raidell thought he was up to no good, because he wasn't from this settlement. Raidell knew almost all of the villagers from each of the settlements. And he... didn't seem to be from this settlement. Was he from Hyrule...? He must've been... almost all of the shiek here had black or brown hair... and then there was the occaisonal blonde... but white? That was almost irrefutably a trademark of Hyrulian sheik.

As he walked by Celt, he grinned wildly. "DIE!" He roared as he swung an open hand at Celt, and Celt stepped back only a second quick enough, but even though the hand missed, it cut his face. Raidell stood aside, not to interfere with a battle that wasn't his until he begun to lose. Celt ran a hand across his cut, and tasted the blood. He grinned, as he ripped the wound open more, and grinned wildly. The sheik looked unnerved, as he stepped back. "Blood's Cataclysm." He said, blood running down his face, a fire lit in his eyes. He knew what this Sheiks style was... it was pure draw-of-the-blade fighting. Deadly speeds... only counterable by a speed of the same kind, which he didn't have... until now.

"Athos' Curse." He said, almost without realizing it, running his hand across his bloodied face, tracing arcane runes in the air with his blood, realizing he didn't move of his own free will anymore. It seemed that Cataclysm had taken over, and was casting a spell, and as he cast it, he grinned madly, his eyes slowly fading from cobalt, to white with a black outline, and black pupils. His hair slowly began to lengthen, and fade to white, and his voice suddenly changed. "Who calls upon me?" He said, in a deep ancient voice. He looked up, at the terrified looking sheik. "Oh... you want me to kill him?" He asked himself. Raidell was amazed. How did he not realize this kind of power hidden within this little boy? Apparantly, this Cataclysm technique the boy used, he didn't even know the full potential of.

The ancient spirit now embodying Celt sighed. "This being your first summon, child, I will let it go. I will kill him. But next time, don't call me unless it's neccessary, or I will consume you." he said, throwing off his cloak. Strapped to his arms, were the blade sheaths where Celt concealed his swords. "This one is all thats needed." Athos said, throwing off the other one off, and reaching his hand to his sheath, smiling sternly at the Sheik, who had regained his composure. "What the hell is wrong with you!" He said, as he reached into his sleeve. Athos smiled. "All is well with me. You... on the other hand..." He said, his grin widening, showing pointed teeth. "Will be in peices soon." And he rushed at him, at intense speed.

Elsewhere...

Raeth stomped towards the assignment post. "BLAAAAANK." She rumbled as she stepped in, silencing everyone in the post, slamming the door behind her. "You said ONE DAY MAX!" She roared at the hooded old man. He nodded. "Yes, I said the max time that needed to be spent would be a day-" and he was cut off by her grabbing his collar, and lifting him off his seat. "Where the hell is he. He's been gone for too long." and he frowned. "You have no respect at all-" And from Raeth's forehead, veins of shadow crept across her forhead, curling down towards her eyes. "Family is priority over respect. Do you want to anger me? Tell me where he is. NOW." She said, her fists beginning to flame a dark purple, eyes fading to black. Blank gasped. "Child, what have you been doign to yourself!" He exclaimed. "You're a demon!" He exclaimed, squirming in her vice-like grip.

She grinned. "No. I've just been testing the power of this god forsaken curse on the Garo. The sin behind this curse is intense... filled with power of dark magnitude. This isn't even the beginning. Tell me where my brother is right now, or I'll show you what the curse of Garo REALLY is like." She said, and he nodded feverishly. "I sent him to patrol the ridge, during the morn of yesterday! Besides that, I have no idea!" He said, and she let go, and the veins of black furled back into the gem. "Thank you." She said with a polite smile, bowing. She the walked out, and closed the door behind her. "...Scary bunch, that family." A garo stated.

As she stepped out, she felt a sudden burst of pain in her head, a huge sensation of power. "Is that... Cataclysm? Mother's technique? It has to be Celt... when did he learn it? Did mom teach her? How did I not notice it before? Thats what I had felt so many times before... I thought I was just imagining things.. I thought I could feel mother... it was just Celt testing the technique." and she began running off towards the route that Blank spoke of, to find clues. At least that burst of power told her Celt wasn't dead. But the power was fading fast. It was huge too... but now it was progressively sinking into silence, and she began running towards where she felt it. "Celt... you better not be dieing on me..." She said, as she left the canyon, her sisterly instincts taking over, worrying about her little brother. She couldn't afford to lose him... she had no one left.

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**Cliffy of an intense battle! Will Celt, with a newly stumbled upon power beat this deadly Sheik? Will Raeth find Celt? Why am I asking so many questions! I don't know, but hope you enjoy this chapter! XD Stay tuned for another chapter later!**


	9. Athos' Reminiscence

**And here's the chapter to enlighten all about the mysteries of the cataclysm! And who this mysterious sheik is, and how Celt stumbled into this new technique! Enjoy everyone!

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Athos rushed at the sheik, who smartly dodge out of the way from a deadly slash. He wondered how this little boy managed to call him forth. He was one of the five who were twisted in attempts to break the curse, deforming the soul, and trapping it within the gem, which held the curse. What did he call it? The Cataclysm Technique? The words stirred memories from his library from time long ago, when he was young, and trying to break the curse. As he thought, he simply avoided and parried attacks from the sheik, while throwing some of his own in, sub-consciously.

Athos ruffled through his library, flipping through book, running a hand through long gray hair. As he rand a hand through it, his hand touched the ruby, and suddenly, his eyes fell on a word in his dossiers that cought his attention. "Cataclysm?" He asked himself, as he began to peruse the book. He began to read, as the books hinted at this seemingly infinitely powerful technique. Each book gave hints, and he used his knowledge of his own books to track all the tid-bits, and it kept pointing at the two people of the conflict that started the Garo.

"Garo... the one who damned us all..." Athos muttered to himself, and he began pulling books down from the shelves, throwing the books on the desk. "And...how did I not notice this name?" He said to himself, running his hand through his hair again, in thought. As such was a nervous habit of his, which he did constantly as he felt that he was onto something, and moved the locks of long grey hair from his eyes. "...Augustana." He said to himself, as he shuffled through the book he had found after killing a sheikah bandit who had apparantly raided a community near his and sacked a library. He never thought the Sheikah would record anything of this sort, or at least, anything about the conflict.

He read about apparantly, what was a bigraphy of the founder of the sheik. She at one time, was the fiance of what was described vaguely as a very handsome man. They had been together in secret for a long while, until they came out into the open about their relationship, because the man was of low rank in the army, although, later was found that he was holding his true power back, to see if she'd actually love her for who he was, and not as someone to help her rule. The two were a sight to behold. But as time went on, the husband became jealous of her, and how he couldn't get control of all of the power. He had entered this to win her love, but in the end, it turned to political strife.

Riots broke out. Hell broke loose. As people began to side with each other, Augustana called her husband out, to end it. She didn't want any more deaths. She didn't want any more lives lost because of her folly. Athos kept reading, captivated by this story, running fingers over the cursed gem. He had just realized who the husband was. "Garo..." He said, as a searing pain shot throuh his head, and he was thrown into the actual story itself.

"Garo..." A woman with long sily like blonde hair said, a white mouth wrap around her face, bright crimson eyes glowing with fury, wearing no hat, and wore a long white robe, ancient yet fine, trailing behind her. A tall man, fine and handsome, slicked back black hair, a demonic grin and posessed look in his eyes. "...Augustana, my lovely wife." He said, a toothy grin on his face, as he walked towards her, the sky dark, mid-day, the sky filled with rain clouds. His eyes were sunken, dark rings around them, wearing a long tattered brown cloak, the trademark of his infamous humbility.

"I'm not your wife anymore, I told you, my feelings for you are dead." She said coldly, words of acid dripping from her mouth. He smiled. "You can't say that after all those lovely nights we shared... so intimate and romantic, how could you forget?" He asked, extending a hand, a tendril of shadow extending, running its tip across her face. She pulled her face away sharply, although no harm was intended to her just yet. She knew he was trying to get into her head. "You're dead to me. Period. You don't cross my mind like it used to." She said.

Garo smiled. "Well, I bet you'd like to make that little fantasy of yours, lately true... to kill me, right?" He asked, and she nodded. He grinned. "Well, you'll have to lower that mask and show me that pretty face of yours." He said, and she growled at him, lowering her mask. Garo smiled, with a sigh. "You're so beautiful when you're angry. I miss you so. Why don't we just forget about all this, and stop the fighting, and get back together? Making up was always the best part of those fights we used to have." He said affectionately. Augustana frowned. As much as she wanted to go back to those old days, they were as good as gone.

"No, we can't Garo." She said, pulling out two daggers, holding them out at her sides, as a tear slid down her face. She really did miss him, from those old days, when he was normal, uncorrupt by the prospect of power. She was miserably sad, she had lost the love of her life, the one person who loved her for not her power, but who she was, the same reason that he had sought her out at one point. Now she had to kill him. But it was for the best, he wasn't himself, he was someone else. She convinced herself that he had been possessed. "I will put you out of your misery, my love." She muttered to herself, as the first raindropped fell, landing upon her cheek. Thats when the battle begun.

The cursed gem on athos' head, had recorded the exact happening. Apparantly, once one had acknowledged the happening, the gem played back the happening, to keep the remembrace of the two souls. At the end of the battle, the two had lay critical blows upon each other, each standing besides each other, her blade driven into his chest, his silver blade driven into her heart. blood dribbled down her mouth. She would die before him, but he would surely die from her blow. "Garo..." She choked out, a pained look upon her face, tears rolling down her face, as she stared longingly into what was once her lovers eyes. "Why did it have to come to this...?" She choked out, and Garo's face softened. "One of us had to go, one of us was bound to rule, not both of us." He said, with a satanic grin on his face, blood dribbling from his mouth as well. She choked on her own words, as more blood came up.

"But... you told me... that we'd rule together... that we'd never die... that we'd live on in each other's hearts, forever, loving one another... remember that promise we made in secret? To each other's souls we'd stay bound?" She said, and Garo's eyes became that of someone else's... his own. "...I'm sorry." He said, and she, with her last breath, cursed him. "Garo... we'd live together in death, we promised. We will die together tonight... but all of your followers will be cursed, cursed forever to correct the evil acts they committed in the name of what you thought was correct." She said, and he frowned.

She began rambling. "...Forever, will your descendants of your followers be cursed to correct your heinous crimes... in the name of the marriage pact we made, and bound ourselves to when we married. You told me you'd never betray me... and you did. You broke the most sacred of promises... our marriage vows." She said, with a final breath, as a glow poured forth from her wound, as did his, and she embraced him tightly, driving her blade deeper into himself, as they both died, their souls entwining, against his will, one dark, one bright. "We'll live together in death, in the worst way possible. In utter hatred of each other, within your followers curse..." She said, and he howled in contempt, as she smiled, in the arms of her lover.

Followers everywhere that night, noticed a gem implanted into their forehead, leaving a painful searing sensation. Some attempted to remove it, and when they did, they died instantly. The Sheik heard of Garo's action, and that they had both died, and the Sheikah drove Garo's followers out of Hyrule, and into another realm, where some Sheikah followed to keep an eye on them. They fled into a Canyon, where they forged a secret existence, realizing their own folly, and how they had followed wrongly, damning themselves, ashamed of their choices, and leader. So they hid, and did as their curse dictated, letting the happening fade into a tale, to a legend, to a foggy memory in the mind, that the sheik had cursed them wrongfully.

Each time a Garo learned this, their mind was warped, and they became one of the twisted. The Sheikah had hidden this info, so that the Garo didn't have to suffer any further. The two souls lived in each of the gems, one of purity, one of darkness. Athos realized that the Cataclysm was the essence of Augustana's soul, and the limitless power that went with it, the power that went with her powerful love. So there was two sides to the curse... Augustana's, and Garo's. This little boy, in a fit of anger at his own pain, drifted towards Garo's soul, and with his dark soul, brought out Athos, one of the five Twisted, who died shortly after finding the secrets of the curse, and the strife it brought to his own soul.

He parried this sheikah's blows, coming to reality, which only seconds had only passed, his intelligent brain processing all of that info in less than half a minute. "Why did you attack me?" Athos asked, forcing the Sheik's blade back. The sheik growled. "I need money. I want to eat." He said, a desperate look entering his eyes as he charged Athos. "You have no idea... how it feels to be as hungry as I have been..." He said, desperation powering his blows. Athos jumped back. "Then take the money." He said, throwing a pouch on the ground. "Asking is a great way to get spare money." He said, and the Sheikah looked shocked. "No one gives me money... I've asked... I've been shunned for begging..." he said, as he bent over to quickly pick up the money, and Athos brought down the handle of his blade into his neck, knocking him out from sheer force.

"Money. Your weakness. And you showed it right to me." He said, shaking his head, picking up the money, and looking at the figure, raising his blade over him. "I'll put an end to your pitiful existence." He said, bringing the blade down, but suddenly, Athos' arm was overpowered. Celt's eyes came back to the surface. "No. Don't kill him, I'll make better use of him." He said, and Athos nodded, at this curious child. He wondered if he would fall to the same end that he had suffered upon finding out about Garo and Augustana... but maybe Augustana's soul would keep him safe... maybe he could break the curse... maybe even bring the Twisted hope. He saw potential in this child. "Celt... never use the Blood Cataclysm, ever again. Don't drift into the darkness of the curse. Stay pure." He said, as he dissappeared from Celts body, and Celt became normal. You're a special child, to be able to tap into the soul of Augustana. He heard, ring thorugh his mind, the words of Athos.

Raidell looked at him, amazed. With the Cataclysm, he could just possibly equal up to Sere. Celt picked up the Sheikah. "Let's get to your house now." He said, wondering if what Athos had said had anything to do with the curse. Who was Augustana? Why would a soul be embodying the cursed gem? He would have to look this up... He thought, as he walked alongside a shocked Raidell, until they arrived at his home. Raidell stopped Celt. "You know, you saving that Sheik has him indebted to you? He has to pay off his life debt to you now. I'm a witness." And Celt nodded. "My race lives by a similiar rule." He said, as they walked in, and Celt laid the bandit on a couch.

"Do the Sheikah have a library? With documents of all their history?" He asked. Raidell frowned. "I could set you up with Sere, I'm almost his right hand man. But you'd have to prove yourself to him, which could be trouble. If you fail, you die. If you kill him, you die." Raidell said, and Celt nodded. "I'll risk it, I have something I need to look up..." He said, looking outside, to the snow around the snug cottage home. Raidell looked at him, and sighed. "Yer one nutty kid."

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**That was one DAMN long chapter. I just revealed soemthign big, but not all of my surprises are yet used up. -grin- I still have a few pocket aces. Hope this all made sense to you guys, and if not, don't hesistate to message me, and I'll explain further. D Stay tuned for more, and hope you enjoyed this chapter!**


	10. The Beginning Confrontation

**I'm back everyone! Heh, apparantly, my previous chapter was a hit with everyone, and I shall not dissapoint with this chapter, as I will try to keep up the good work! XD

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Raeth rushed across the ridge. There was another burst of energy. It had also faded again, though. It felt familiar, though, like someone she had once knew. It was her mother's technique, and had always remembered it as hers, but now... it had almost taken on a new identity. She rushed further, towards this power, through forests, and up a mountain side, into snowy tundra. She began running at top speeds, until she began to near where she could sense a bunch of presences.

The wall had a door built into it. "Hmmm... there are people in there." She said to herself, as the doors opened, and a group of white clad sheikah stepped out. She readied herself in case they attacked, and the person who stepped out first, was Sere. "Who the hell are you!" He exclaimed, and she blew a black lock from her eyes. "My name is of no importance. Where is my brother?" She asked, and Terea swore out loud, and everyone looked at her, and she swore again, for giving herself away.

Sere strode over to her. "She's talking about your little pet, huh?" and Terea cringed. "Erm... yeah..." She said, and he backhanded her, and sent her spiralling backwards. "Idiot. Now the Garo will know about our location because of you. Do you know what that means? Raids in blind hatred, they'll discover our libraries, they'll learn what happened, which means more Twisted... kill the boy's sister. Now." Sere said, confusing Raeth. Terea frowned. "Fine..." She said, stepping forward, towards Raeth. "This isn't personal... this is just to keep all of you safe." She said, and Raeth was still confused.

Terea rushed at her, with a speed amazing to Raeth. Her blade was lodged in her chest. "You're not the only one cursed. I'm a garo too." She said, moving a piece of hair, showing a ruby on her forehead. With a violent motion, she twisted the blade, and ripped it out. Terea sighed. "Couldn't we have spared her?" She asked. Sere shook his head. "We have far too many Garos in secret here. I've slipped up too many times, made too many Twisted in the process of saving them. No more will I screw up. It's impossible to save the Garo. Everyone last one of them... they're screwed. I'm done trying. Dispose of her body." Sere said, as he motioned for them all to leave, his hair covering his eyes.

Sere thought about his screw ups. He was such a failure. He should've given up years ago... someone should've assassinated him... like all the other Sheikah before him. To die by assassination... it's the way of the Sheikah, when a leader was of no use. If they could die by hands of their underlings, they were of no use. The one who killed him would take over, and rule better than their former ruler, as a sign of respect. But... not one Sheikah had attempted to kill him. Never, not once. Why did they all love him so dearly? Had they known his secret, and taken pity on him? He didn't know anymore... maybe he had worked his way into each of their hearts somehow, and they saw through his stern exterior, and saw what he really was. He began walking away, slowly, as Terea lifted the body, and walked towards Raidell, where Celt most likely was.

Celt looked at the bandit. There was a minor bruise. Celt rubbed his forehead, feeling that ruby gem embedded in there permenately. He looked in the mirror, at his forehead, where dark intricate veins of black had begun to spread across his forehead, giving him a sinister like look. Did what Athos said have anything to do with the curse? Did the curse have anything to do with these markings? What did he mean by don't drift into darkness...? Who was Augustana? Why did that name sound so familiar? He ran a hand through his hair, eyes closed in thought. "Heya son!" Raidell said, slapping a hand down on his shoulder, shocking Celt. "Son?" And Raidell chuckled. "I call all the young'uns around here Son. I've been here for a while. All these kids are like kids to me, and you, I feel like I've known you for a while!" He said with a grin.

Celt shrugged off his hand, which made Raidell chuckle. "You're like an old friend of mine, I think that's why I like you. You're probably a great guy, just you're a bit cold at times. People like you are always the best, you just gotta break throught the shell and get that goodness that lies within." He said, and Celt nodded. He was pretty much right, and it almost bothered him. Maybe he had been around so long that he had known people just like him. "...So... who exactly is Sere?" He asked Raidell. Raidell sat himself down, but stopped, before he crushed the Sheikah, and sat on the opposite couch. "Well, he's got quite a long winded history, that man. He's got books written about himself, he does. All restricted as for use though." He said, and Celt frowned. "You know, but you won't be telling me, huh?" He asked, and Raidell beamed. "Yup. You gotta beat Sere himself, prove to him that you're worth it, you gotta prove yourself on a different things to him. He knows a lot more about you than you even know." He said with a nod.

"What the hell! He knows about me?" And Raidell nodded. "Not you personally... well, maybe, I dunno. He might... but he knows a lot about your people and about them. That;s all I'm sayin." He said, and He nodded, and then there was banging at the door. "RAIDELL, OPEN UP! NOW!" Raidell jumped up, and with uncharacteristic speed, rushed over, and unbolted the door and ushered in a white clad Sheikah. The voice belonged to Terea, but you couldn't tell from looking at her frost covered masked face. She was carrying a female, and Celt realized who is was, and noticed the crimson slowly making its way down Terea's shoulder. Raeth was dying on her shouler. Fury lit up Celts eyes, but the pact he held with her, restrained him from attacking her. "WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER!"

Terea cringed. "I was ordered to. By my ... ruler, Sere. I had to, he wouldn't let another Garo live." She said, panting. "I couldn't explain it, even if I was able to, nevermind the fact that I'm forbidden to tell anyone." She said, laying Terea on the unoccupied couch. "What is this, a hospital!" Raidell whined, as both Terea and Celt shot them dirty looks. "Raidell, heal them NOW!" Terea ordered him, and he cringed. "Ok, ok! Don't hurt meee..." He said, in a tiny voice as he lumbered over to Raeth, and began to lift her shirt, and was swiftly back-kicked in the face by Celt. "WATCH IT." He said, and Raidell lay on the ground, whimpering.

"I'm just trying to help! I have to make skin contact for magic to work!" He said, and Celt growled. "You make any sort of unwanted move, and I will make sure you never have children." And Raidell cringed, opening his mouth, but he decided it was wiser to keep it shut. He lifted her shirt, high enough to see the wound directly on the chest. "...I have to..." He whispered, and Celt growled. "Fine." He said, and Raidell reluctantly slipped his hands up further, and a green glow emenated from his hands, and after a few seconds, he pulled his hands back. "She should be fine. Give her a half hour or so." He said, and Celt nodded. "Good, plenty of time to take on Sere." He said, and begn towards the door.

"WHOA WHOA WHOA!" Terea said, jumping up and jumping in front of the door. "There's no way in hell you can take on Sere." She said, and Celt smiled sweetly, in a way that made her feeling unbearably uncomfortable. "Wanna make a bet?" He said, moving her aside, opening the door, leaving. He began walking through the snow, pulling his collar up, feeling vengeful. Terea ran up besides him. "How can you be so sure of yourself! He's ripped through people with his bare hands before!" She exclaimed, exxagerating a little. "I'm not as soft as you'd think." He said, and she sighed. "Where's the bastard's house, anyways?" Celt asked. Terea sighed. "There's no stopping you, huh?" She asked, and he nodded. "Basically." And she rolled her eyes. "I have more than one reason to fight him. He knows something I need to know, and he ordered you to hurt my sister." He said, and she frowned, she wasn't sure if he could even begin to size up against him.

He was strong, but when he fought her, she wasn't even at full power. She had been travelling for about three days straight without stopping, and it had fatigued her. Even if she was weak, it was her fault for being so, so she considered it a fair match, that he had beaten her at her fullest. She didn't know anything about this kid, and he seemed to hold some, even though to her, faint, potential, that might help him against Sere... maybe. Nonetheless, she led him towards his own death. "You know, you're not allowed to kill him, or everyone will be after you... but he can kill you. Thats the price of a direct challenge. Celt nodded. "It's all or nothing for me. It's either I lose it all, or don't gaine anything at all. I'll risk it." He said, as he walked into this large wooden home.

Sere stood there, in a main hall, long and bare, with him standing at the end of it, lurched over what looked like a picture, on a small shrine, decorated with candles, all the way at the opposite side of the hall. Was he praying? For a deceased loved one? Celt was curious, and inched silently towards Sere. "Hello sir." Celt said, and Sere nodded, standing up, wiping his eyes feverishly not turning around, laying the picture face down. "There's no need to call me sir. We're a lot closer than you'd think, Celt." He said, throwing Celt off. Had Terea discussed him, or did he really know him from watching him from afar?

"How do you know my name? And in what sense do you mean close?" Celt asked, cautiously. Sere turned around, crimson eyes lit with anticipation, a beaming smile on his face. "I'll tell you if you give me a good fight!" He said, pausing. "Hell, give me a good fight, and my library is yours. That's why you're here, isn't it?" Sere asked, and Celt nodded, with a faint grin himself, jumping back into a fighting stance.

"I wonder about you, Celt... what traits did you inherit from your mother and father?" Sere said, amused at Celt's confusion. "I mean, they were both quite the team. Incredibly skilled and powerful." He said. "Did you know them!" Celt exclaimed. "Mayyyybeee. Fight me and find out!" He said, and Celt jumped at him, lashing out fiercely with his concealed silver swords.

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**Another of my famous beginning-battle-cliffhangers! I can't help it guys, I love doing this to you all. XD Well, I hope you enjoyed the chapter, ( cliffhanger included ) and stay tuned later for another chapter from the one and only Jonny! **


	11. The Memory Remains

**I'm back with another update! Enjoy! I'll just rush right into the story for optimum reading pleasure. XD That sounded a tad dirty.

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Celt jumped at him, unleashing a volley of unpredictable blade slashes, which Sere just jumped out of the way of, moving what looked like his wedding band from his ring finger to the tip of his index finger, while daftly manuevering out of the way of more blows. "I'll only use this finger to parry." He said, and Celt was a little skeptic of this, not sure if it was just a lie, to make way for a diversion, which lead to an opening to attack, or he was serious. Either way, he keep pushing towards him, slashing fiercely with his swords.

Celt charged him again, letting off another series of slashes, and Sere grinned, planting his feet firmly on one spot, as Celt's attacks neared him, and he blocked them with... his wedding ring. Yes, Sere was actually reflecting the blows with his small ring of gold, now parrying multiple strikes, as the blade collided with the simple band, bouncing off. "Headstrong, not afraid to get in one's face..." He said, parrying more blows, as Celt pushed towards him, forcing him back with his blades. "...Just like your father." And then one of the blades shot over his shoulder, as he managed to barely evade, as the shaft of metal slid harmlessly through his long gold hair.

"...With the insane prescision of your mother." Sere said, as Celt jumped back, taking a strange stance. "Cataclysm's Illusion!" He yelled, as flame erupted around him, displacing his image, faltering, fading, reappearing and feinting. "Ohhh! What a pleasany surprise! Your mother taught you that curious technique!" He said as Celt neared him. Sere smiled. "Ascension." And like water flowing from him, a serene aura appeared around him, an aura of an azure hue, as apposed to Celt's fiery hateful crimson aura. "CATASTROPHE!" He roared, as Celt got close enough to lash out at him, and Celt felt himself blown back by the shockwave. "You're not the only one with special powers, Celt." He said, as the serene flow of energy coursed around him.

Celt 'hmphed' as he stood up, cringing, and falling back down as surges of energy from the shockwave ran through his nerves, crippling him. "Bastard..." He said, stumbling to get back up, his nerves all messed up, everything felt reversed. He needed to dredge up some sort of technique that he could do without much movement. Thats when he heard Athos' voice in his head, calling out the words "Cataclysm's Chains." And as he heard Athos say it, he too, said it, and a cirlce of enscibed fiery runes beneath his feet as the area around his foot radius became lava, and red-hot chains burst from within it, moving with a life of their own, blades attached to the ends.

Sere cringed. His mother had used the very same technique on him once in training, and he never found a way past it. How had he learned so many techniqes so quickly? He had felt many Cataclysm techniques off in the distance from Celt, in such a short time. Was there somone helping him...? Thats when Sere noticed the shadowy figure behind Celt.

"Athos!" Sere exclaimed, and the shady figure nodded with a smirk. "I'll see you sometime soon, brother..." The figure said, and Celt didn't hear a word. His body was practically comatose, unmoving, breath still, but he was living through the chains. He could move and see clearly through them, so he concentrated on the fully. Sere was steadily being amazed by this child, and couldn't recover from the shock of seeing Athos again, after so many years of him being gone... but he had no time for reminiscence as chains shot at him.

Sere evaded one chain, then reached into a pocket and launched a kunai at the other, hitting the tip of its blade, redirecting it away from him as he reached into another pocket, and slashed at another living chain with a concealed short sword. "Ascencions Blade." He said, as a pulse of blue grew in the center of the blade, pulsating, and growing as it enveloped and enlargened the blade until the glow died away, and became an ornately carved long sword. He lashed out at the chains, holding his ground for a good amount of time until while he was busy fending off three chains attacking him from above to notice the other two snaking towards his feet. As the two wrapped around his ankles, he looked down, and the other chains snapped at him, and wrapped around his arms, torso and neck. "Shit." He choked out. This was the exact same way his mother had beaten him, how could he have forgotten, and fell for it again?

"ASCENSIONS REQUIEM." He yelled, as the calming blue aura becoming a black color, serene features becoming gaunt and tight. The now flaring aura melted the chains right off, and the water like glow had become fiery. "Nocturne of Shadow." And music began playing from the dark corners of the room, as the shadows began shifting and moving as if they were alive, and they suddenly began to expand, and swallowed the lights of the room, quenching the torches and candles. Suddenly, Celt was kicked in the jaw, dispelling the Cataclysm, and the sudden panic that washed over his body gained him use of his limbs. Celt began panicking, swinging his blades at any sign of sounds or movement, which he heard from all around, or it was just his imagination.

Sere's voice called out from the seemingly unending darkness.

"What Celt, afraid of the dark? Why would that be?" Sere asked in a rough voice. "Would it be because you never had a mother to tuck you in at night?" He said.

"Shut up."

"It's because you never had a mother to hold you close when you awoke from a terrifying nightmare, isn't it?"

"Shut up!"

"Or is it because of the fact you can't even rememeber the days where your mother did say 'I love you.'?"

"SHUT UP."

"Or... was it because of that night when she went insane, and almost killed you? WAS IT!"

The memories of that night cut through Celt's heart. Lately, his mother had been acting strangely, and his father had actually been aroundlately, as opposed to always being out working to support the household. During this time, Celt's mother stopped saying 'I love you' stopped hugging him, and started fallign into trances, until one night...

Celt had gotten into bed and tucked himself in with a frown and a sigh, saying goodnight to himself like his mother would've if she cared. Then the door suddenly opened slowly. Celt sat up and turned to see who was entering his bedroom, and saw his mother standing there, her dark eyes blank. Celt was amazed to see it was his mother. "Mummy, mummy, are you going to tuck me in tonight?" He asked ecstatically, face a lit in anticipation of finally receiving some affection from his mother. "...Mommy...?" And she stood there, blank faced for a little while, until she rushed at him. Celt didn't even feel it. He was numb from shock as he watched his beloved mother beating the life out of him, until the father rushed and managed to subdue the mother.

Celt was comatose for three weeks, that's how badly he was beaten by his mother. Three weeks he suffered the darkness of his own mind, the black absence of thought and life that he lived in while he was unconscious, thinking about why his mother had attacked him and beaten him so brutally. He woke up later, and found his mother and father to be gone, all while he was a small child of five years. He was never the same, always keeping to himself, sulking within the darkness that had been his mind up until it had been re lit, then thrust back into the fear and anger of what happened years ago, when this unendind darkness had brought the old memory to the surface.

"BLACK HATRED!" Celt roared, falling deep into the sin of the curse, enveloped in purple flames, his eyes colors inverting, veins of black unfurling from the gem and covering him in demonic looking tattoos from the forehead down to his torso and arms. He disappeared into the darkness, reappearing with his blade embedded in Sere's gut, which he wrenched upwards, cutting clear through the center of his ribs, pulling it from his torso, spraying himself with blood in the process. As the body dropped limp to the ground, Celt heard Sere's voice from a rafter above him. "Spectacular!" It called out, and Celt looked up, the shadows receding, and Celt's anger faded with it, his source of anger, contempt and pain. Sere jumped down from above. "I havn't had such a great battle since I met your parents! Bravo!" He said, and Celt looked to the dead corpse questioningly.

"Doppleganger. Sheikah Magic. But congrats on your win." He said with a grin.

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**Hee. Hope you enjoyed it. XD Leave me a review on what you thought, and don't worry, I've got even more fun coming up with the next chapter. The next chapter will be revealing who Sere is, and how he knows Celt's parents, and Celt himself, as well as a bunch of other little goodies. Stay tuned. **


	12. The Library of Meanings

**Yesh, I'm back, and I shall be pumping out chapters for this story this week, because I know I will be getting grounded rather soon! XD Stupid report cards... But anyhoo, enjoy another riveting chapter!

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Celt saw Sere talkign to him, but he heard nothing, and heard a dark tempting voice from within his mind, his sight blurring, the voice speaking to him. "Wasn't that a rush? All that power... it could truly be yours... accept it, let your heart open to darkness, let it become you, and you could exact revenge upon all those bastard Sheikah who cursed your race, and you could use the power I can give you to break the curse... let me take you over..." The voice said, and a pure voice chimed in. "No, don't let him use you like a pawn, he just wants to regain form..." and the two voices, dark, and pure, clashed, and wracked at his brain, until another voice shot through his mind, and it was Athos', roaring in anger. "I TOLD YOU NOT TO FALL INTO THE DARKNESS!" and suddenly, the two voices dissappeared, as his blurred vision was restored, his slowly slipping sanity returning to him.

"Stay away from the darkness!" Sere repeated, in the echo of Athos' voice, shaking the shoulders of Celt, who had gone limp, and apparantly he had gone into a dark trance, mumbling nonsense. Sere's eyes were solemn, and his knuckles were white. "Don't use anymore dark techniques like that unless you wanna become a Twisted like the others, and the one you fought on the ridge." and Celt blinked. "Ok, if you don't mind, enlighten me on this 'Twisted' thing." and Sere let go of him, and backed up. "Well, a twisted is what happens to a Garo when he or she resists the two opposing forces within the cursed gem. The markings on your body means that the darkness within you has just begun to get a grasp on you, and soon the purity within the gem will begin to force this back, warpign and twisting your body and soul. Hopefully, you won't become a victim of this." He said. Sere pointed him to the library. "All you'll need to learn can be learned in there."

Celt walked in, and Sere walked back over to the picture, and lifted it, and knelt down besides it, and payed. "Mother, please protect his soul." And on the picture, was... a Garo. "Of all people... why did you become a Twisted...?" He asked himself, placing his head on the shrine. Inside, Celt was looking through books. "First of all... let's clarify who this mysterious person Sere REALLY is..." and he pulled down a book titled 'The Only One' which was heavy with dust, and dropped it on the desk wtih an equal amount of dust layering it, and opened it. On the first page was an accurate illustration of Sere standing there, in the center of a group of other people, including him, a younger Raidell, a woman besides him that he had his arm around, and in front of the two, were two small children, a boy and girl, and then to the right of Sere was an older woman, and besides her was her husband, and Terea was also standing there, with the young Sere and what seemed like his parents. Each of them had a gem on their forehead, except Sere. Celt began reading.

Sere was born in Termina, a curious birth, the conception between a Garo and a Sheikah. They both put aside their racial differences, pasts and histories, and discriminations, and focused on their similarities, and fell in love. The mother was a Garo and the father was a Sheikah. They had a child before Sere, named Athos, who unfortunately, was born with the burden of the curse of his mother's race.

But their second child was a pleasant surprise. They got a child, curseless. Apparantly, the incredible bond of love between the two races had managed to break the curse on newly borns between the two races, living in harmony. The only problem was that most Garo opposed this idea, not knowing what had really happened between the Garo and Sheikah founders. If they were exposed to what really happened between the two, without proper training, the dark entity within the cursed gem would awaken, and try to take over the body to kill each of the Sheikah, but the pure entity that lived within would prevent the darkness to take over, and without a strong enough will to force both of the two back, they'd become twisted, from the two souls embodying the gem.

Sere, his mother, father, and Athos all strove to find a way to prevent the Garo from becoming twisted, and break the curse at the same time, so they would be able to live free lives, in peace, without being prisoner to fight the evil that was the same kind their founder had caused. The family believed that just because the founder and the followers were evil, and tainted, why did their descendants have to suffer the curse they don't even know existed, that they didnt even cause? Thats why they and most of the Sheikah had all worked together to save the Garo; they had suffered enough. Athos, though, underwent an attempt without telling his family, and performed an experiment in secret, and regretfully, became Twisted in the process. He was killed by Sere, to put him to rest.

Shortly after, his mother became unhinged as well, when the father contracted a deadly sickness, that put him on his deathbed. Emotionally stressed and stretched thin when the father finally died after months of suffering, the mother had no will to resist, and was warped when she lost her resistence; her love and her husband. So, Sere was left alone, family torn apart, and dead, with no family left, he took his father's place, and ruled the Sheikah in his place. A year after, he found out his mother had a sister, that she had neglected to tell anyone, because this particular sister had appeared on his doorstep, with her daughter, and husband, who still resides here, helping Sere find a way to break the curse. The two adults were like another set of parents to him, and lived with him, paying their debt to the curse as they helped Sere find a way to break it.

They two, learned and knew about the two founders, but had managed to resist them and keep them from warping them. Later on, the two had a son in the Sheikah settlement and built a small house and raised their children there, a small home away from home. When the boy was born, Sere was named his godfather, although they were cousins. When the little boy turned three, the mother, daughter and son left, but the father stood behind to help Sere. Most of their attempts to break the curse had sadly failed, but provided subtle hints, but three of the attempts had caused the Garos to become Twisted, and later that same year, had to return to his Garo home, because there was rumors that his wife was acting oddly.

Two years later, the mother too, became warped, and joined the ranks of the Twisted. Sere had shared many things with them, and the mother is missed dearly, to this very day. The mothers name was Snow, the daughter Raeth, the son Celt, and the father Raidell. Also, Raidell's close friend since she was a small girl, Terea, lives with him and Sere still attempting to break the curse, and is also a Garo.

Celt's head swam. Everything he had ever looked for was right beneath his nose, his family, his past, his life, everything. Everything had been right under his nose the entire time.


	13. Blades of Ice

Celt began pulling down book after book. What was this quarrel the two founders held? Why was it always hinted at and whispered about in the shadows of ancient lore? Thinking about it now, he had realized that Blank and a few other aged Garo had mentioned the founders. He ran his hand through his hair instinctively, as he thought, opening books, throwing them down on the dusty desk, as Athos' memories flashed through his head, and he realized this was his library. As he searched the books, they all hinted at the name of the founder of the Sheikah... he needed to know that name, he needed to clarify what he saw in his dreams so often. He needed to know what really happened between that Sheik and Garo.

...Augustana.

The battle flashed through his head as he discovered the name of the Sheikah founder, with dialogue, with emotion, with the pain of those who were killed in the civil war between Augustana's men and Garo's fanatical followers.

...The two were lovers. Garo was corrupted by the idea of such power sitting at his feet, when all he had wanted was love. And in the end, he killed his love, and broke his wedding vows, and thats how he had damned all of the Garo. He had caused strife, death, bloodshed, and tears. He had killed his lover in the pursuit of power... Celt was almost ashamed of his own race. But now, Celt understood it all.

He understood the Cataclysm, the Curse, the Twisted, the Sheikah, the Garos, Garo and Augustana, his parents. He even thought he understood how to break the curse itself.The books laid on the desk, Celt lurched over them, drenched in a cold sweat. Then, he left the library, and kneeled besides his godfather, his cousin Sere, and prayed for his mother, and his aunt. Afterwards, he stood up. "Only one of the Twisted were killed, right? You couldnt bring yourself to kill your mother, as was the same with my father, not being able to kill my mother. And the Garos that you turned Twisted escaped before you could take them out." Celt said, and Sere nodded. "And the one dead Twisted happened to be my brother, who attacked me, and I killed him out of shock and defense. It seems you brought his soul out of darkness, and into your gem when you used that blood cataclysm. It seems he's playing Guardian over you." Sere said, and Celt nodded.

"He's been helping me." He said, and then he turned around. "Please excuse me, I have to have a word with my father." And Sere chuckled. "Raidell's gonna have fun dealing with his two children who havn't seen him in years." and Celt looked serious. "You don't even know the beginning of it."

Celt kicked Raidell's door in. "Daaaaaaddy, were are youuuuu?" He said, a look of childish insanity on his face. Raeth, and the bandit were both looking at him questioningly. "Eh?" They both said, and Raidell turned around to attempt running, but Celt caught him in what looked like a strange mix between a hug and trying to rip his head off in a viscious headlock. "Daaaaaaddy, when was the last time I told you I loved you! OH YEAH, SEVEN YEARS AGO! When you left me and Raeth alone!" He yelled.

"Celt! Leave him alone! Did you hit your head really hard when you fought Sere or something! Thats not our father." and Celt smiled. "Ohhh, but it is, isn't that right!" He said, tightening the grip on him. "Ack! Let goooo! Yeah, I'm your dad, but I had to leave ya two alone, I HAD to! But look, you two grew up well enough even without me and yer mum! Look at you two! My little cutie pie has developed into a beautiful young woman, and my little boy has become quite the man!" He said, and Raeth stared at him, and then joined Celt as the two lovingly beat the hell out of him.

Afterwards, Celt explained everything to Raeth, and when he was done talking, the Sheikah stood up. "The shady people around here call me Ghost. Don't even bother asking my real name." He said, with a nod of his head, and Celt nodded. "I believe you owe me your life, right?" and Ghost nodded quietly. "I owe my life to someone as well, so I will be travelling with her to break the curse... I've got an idea on how to break it... But you will be accompanying my sister. Raeth, keep an eye on him for me." and she nodded. Terea looked at him funny. "Who said I wanted to come with?" And Celt smiled. "Unless you want your 'pet' to die, and I bet pops over there would be asking you to keep an eye on me as well." and Raidell nodded, still rubbing his neck. She sighed. "Fine fine. I'll go with." and Celt smiled. "Thats what I thought you'd say."

Raeth and Ghost got up. "I'll be going to the library to read this stuff myself." She said, and smacked Ghost on the back of the head. "C'mon, you're coming with me, and I officially dub you my lackey. I never had a thing for you Sheik. You guys get awefully cocky." and he scowled, and resisted hitting her back, for two reasons; he'd be killed by Celt, and all the Garo in the room, and he would be betraying the Sheikah code. "Whatever." He said, following her out the door.

Celt turned to Raidell. "So, Raidell... uh, I mean, dad... are you going to stay here?" He asked, and Raidell nodded. "Someone's gotta keep an eye on that stressed out half-breed." He said with an affectionate tone. As Terea and Celt left, Raidell spoke. "Say hi to your mother if you see her again." He said, and Celt nodded, as his father looked down at the ground, fiddling with his thumbs. "It's my fault she's in this state, all because I didn't have the backbone to put her to rest..." He said, and Celt pat him on the shoulder. "Don't worry, I don't think I couldv'e either." He said, as he left, and just before he left, Raidell stood up. "Hey, son, catch." and he threw a bundle at him which he had pulled from a cabinet nearby. "These were your mother's blades." He said, and Celt opened them, seeing two ornately carved silver blades, tinted a light cobalt blue as if made from solid ice itself, with gold trim lining the inside of the blade, forming a beautiful design. They were light as could be, and they felt as if they belonged in his hands, as they settled into his sleeve sheaths. "Thanks. I'll make mom proud." He said, as he left, and ran out into the snowy tundra, making his way down the mountain slope.


End file.
